Today, I thought I would tell a little tale involving my Grandma, Frances, up there. She was an original, quite a character. Farmer's wife. Born in Kansas.
I was down in Idaho, with some of the family, visiting the grandparent's farm that summer. It was our usual vacation. My parents didn't do a real vacation! lol. Nope.
I was probably about 16 years old, and my younger male cousin was there also that day.
So Grandma says there is a sick rooster down in the corral. She wants Todd and I to go kill the rooster and give it to the barn cats. These cats would really eat a rooster! So she hands me a 22 long gun of some sort and Todd, who was about 12 at that time, and I head on down the driveway through the farm to this corral area. Now, I had never shot any kind of gun, ever. However, Frances liked to shake things up and see what fell out.
Way across this corral, so small that I couldn't see him in any detail, I saw our quarry, a ratty looking old rooster. So while Todd, watched, I took aim and fired. By some quirk of Universal Kozmik Weirdness I clipped its head neatly off. Cat food, off the hoof!
Do you remember that cat food commercial, with the jingle that goes "meow meow meow meow meow etc" in that tune? Anyhow, cousin Todd was so excited that he ran up to the house singing the jingle all the way, to spread the happy news of my terrific shot. I hope my grandma was pleased.
Not being completely green, and knowing about how likely that was to ever happen again, I never ever ever took another shot in front of Todd or any of them, ever again.
My reputation remained intact.
That's Todd. As you can see, he is going to lose this match.
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